I Won't Be There
by Priestess of Camazotz
Summary: New kids, don't you just love them? Upper-classmen: new people to introduce to their lockers. Girls: new hot guy? Guys: new hot girl? Well...bundle of new kids. One: Lives on lies, rage, pain, mistrust...
1. Meetings

If moving to another city sounds bad, imagine moving to another country. Airports are best to be avoided, but are better to be in with a friend. That way, you can be nervous together, find your bags, together, if something's lost, you can report it…together. If you look horrible from the plane ride, your friend will tell you and you can go to get better…together. 

Unfortunately, I have no such luck. I am standing in an airport, alone, with only my backpack, without my other bags, and knowing for a fact I probably look shit. I sigh and, forcing myself to forget my appearance for a while, go to look for my bags. I don't exactly know where to go, but I follow the family I sat behind on the plane.

Soon enough, I stand by the conveyor belt, staring as suitcases come up. I see two of my three bags, wait until they come to me, and then reach over and grab them. Then, a few seconds later, my other one comes towards me. I grab it to, and loading myself with them, finally head for the bathroom. 

As I guessed, I look horrible. Well, more so than usual. I sigh. 

My dark brown hair is slightly tangled, and the aquamarine streaks that were once my bangs are interwoven to be hidden and look green. The piercing in my lip and nose could be a little shinier. Could my eyeliner be any more…faded?

Rolling my eyes, I reach into one of my bags and pull out a hair brush and small make-up bag. Taking a black pencil out of the make-up bag, I re-outline my dark brown eyes with it. Then I grab the hairbrush and quickly run it through the hair I hate so much. 

Smirking, I repack my small bags and stare at my reflection. My pale skin, is well, pale but clear. The guys back home had called me curvy, not that I didn't notice that myself. My black T-shirt with a slightly naked (ok completely naked) mermaid surrounding a very horny looking diver, covered everything except the netting on my arms that ran down to stop and flare just a little below my wrist. My black pants were tight around my hips (low too) and baggy around the legs. I smile and reload my shoulders with my three bags and backpack. Then I proceed to walk out of the bathroom.

Once back into the mid-hall thing of the airport, I look around. Kids my age and younger were streaming around, looking for relatives. Not me. I was standing there, until I saw a sign that had 'Corazon'—I wince—'Dremel' on it. I sigh again for about the eighth time since I've stepped off the plane and start towards the woman holding it above her head.

What surprises me is that the woman's not alone. She has a guy, my age or a little older, standing next to her. A very…good-looking guy, at that. Even if you were gay, which I know a lot of gay people, this guy would make you wish you were at least bi. He had short black hair, spiked up, with crayola red tips. He smirked as he saw me, the spike sticking out of his chin and the ring through his lip glimmering in the light. 

She, the woman, smiles. "You must be Corazon. I'm Kimberly Scotts and this is my son…"

"Ciar, but most people just call me Jay, it's a lot easier to remember and say," he said in a low voice, obviously past the beginning of puberty, with a smirk on his face. 

I don't smile back, "I'm, well…you already know, obviously. Just call me Cor, my mom was on drugs when she named me that."

Jay frowns slightly and glances at his mother. She ignores my way of talking and raises an eyebrow at my clothing.

"Nice way of dressing…" she says, looking amused.

"You got a problem with it?" I ask, looking at her warily. 

"No, I don't. I could careless how someone dresses, as long as they _do_ dress. I'm used to it anyway, obviously." She nods pointedly at her son, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

He just rolls his eyes and pulls his headphones back up over his ears. I hadn't noticed them around his neck. I smile a little, thinking that this family might actually work. Then I wonder how long I'll be here. The woman, Mrs. Scotts, seems to read my mind.

"You're papers show you've been around a lot. You not like your family, or your family not like you?"

I stare at her for a moment, and she nudges her son who takes two of my bags from me without speaking. Then he turns and starts to walk out, his mother following. I follow along too, thinking over what she'd asked.

When we are finally in the car, me in front, Jay in back, I sigh. "They didn't like me. And I don't really get along with people, so I didn't like them."

Jay's music must not be as loud as I think, for he smirks at my comment.

She nods and glances at me, and then away quickly. "I see…have you any idea why?"

_Yes! _My mind screams. "No idea why I don't like people, or why they didn't like me?"

"Both…"

"I don't like people for they seem to only judge. They didn't like me, because…" I pause, then sigh. Looking out the window, I say "Most just said I was too hard to take care of."

"Are you lesbian? Is that what you mean by people judging?" she asks softly.

"Lesbian? Me? No, not at all. My friend was gay, and he got beat to death, but I'm not. I prefer undressing guys with my eyes, not girls."

Again, Jay must be listening, for he starts to snicker.

"Ah, well, I'm sure you'll like it here."

I smile a little, she must be used to being around teenagers who were blunt. Most of the other homes, ok all, would have booted me out for just saying that. Some for even having a gay friend, once.

-

I follow behind Mrs. Scotts as she gives me a tour of the huge house. Did I say house? I mean castle. I could swear it came right out of one of the millions of history books I've had.

"This is your room," she states, leading me into a room somewhere upstairs.

I look around. The room, like the house, is huge. It is easily the size of some of the homes I have stayed it. It was cozy, in the sense that the furniture was arranged like a designer's house. "Um…" I start, not knowing what to say. I have to be polite, but the truth is I loathe the way it's so…perfect.

She saves me. "You can do whatever you want with it, I'm sure Jay will help you find darker colours." She starts to walk out. "Dinner's in an hour, try and get comfortable." With that she's gone. 

I walk over to the massive, queen-size bed and bounce onto it. I cross my arms and sigh. There's nowhere to play music. Almost, as if on cue, I see a huge stereo system against the wall. A grin appears on my face and I hurriedly unpack one of my bags, the one I know has CDs. I put in one by Simple Plan and turn the volume and bass up. I grin again. The house is so big that I'm on the other end, no one will hear my music. Good.

I look around again, and then at my bags. I have so much work to do, and only an hour in which to do it. Or, at least, that's what I'm guessing. Sighing, I begin to unpack, muttering to myself, "I wonder how long this will last." I blink. "Ok, since when do I start talking to myself?" _Since you haven't had a friend for about five years,_ comes that annoying voice everyone experiences once in a while.

_I give it a month,_ I think, answering my first question.

I have practically lived in every country there is. I was born in Spain, my mother didn't want me and my father didn't know I exist, so they put me in a home. I was then I was soon adopted into a small family there. I lived there for maybe a month, and was sent back to the home. For behavior. In truth, I suspect they didn't want me either. Anyway, I was then sent to England, to live with this rich bunch of aristocrats. I was sent back in forth between that family for maybe a year before social services found out. I was sent to an orphanage. This family in France adopted me and I lived there for maybe a year. Next to Mexico. Then to Alaska. Then back to Spain. Italy. Egypt. Ireland. Scotland. Germany. Back to Spain again. Then New Zealand…

Something happened in New Zealand, something I force myself never to think about. Anyway, I was sent to Haiti. God I hated Haiti, so I did what always got me to move, being blunt and crude, and so I was finally here. Toronto, Canada. 

I sigh again and sing along to my music. I'm well-practiced at not thinking about anything in particular, so I don't. I just, pack and sing. 

An hour isn't really a long time, though some people I know think so. I loose track of time. Suddenly I hear chimes going off. Glancing up at the clock in my room, I gasp, and run out the door. I was going to be late for dinner. 

Make that a week.


	2. AN: IMPORTANT, do read itnow

**A/N: **Ok, I _know this is rather like __Swimming Through the Void by Solus Nemo. I realized that. I only put this up, because:_

1) I was _extremely_ bored.

2) I had the startings of this _long before I knew __Swimming Through the Void was out there and wanted to put it up._

3) I was _extremely_ bored.

4) I felt that, since it was clattering up documents in Microsoft, it can clatter up documents on fanfiction

5) I was _extremely_ bored.

6) My friend said it was good and that I should.

7) I was _extremely_ bored.

8) When I wrote _Child of a Fallen Angel_ I couldn't choose between two diseases, so I decided to write two stories, using either one. 

—Yes, Corazon is **_not_** gay, and actually has a disease—

9) I was _extremely_ bored.

10)…there isn't a 10, I just like going to ten and ranting and raving.

Ok? I'm sorry, Solus Nemo, for it appearing that I nipped some of your story ideas, I didn't mean to. Also, I don't really appreciate flames, so I hope this Author's Note will stop at least _some_ of those. Again I say, I'm sorry. I don't, and won't, usually apologize to people before, or for, or through, an update, but I decided that in this case, I had to. Again, I'm sorry. Really.

—Scimitar Nyx


	3. A Friend?

It's been a week. I'm surprised I'm still here. You'd think that after being late to dinner twice, they'd get pissed and ship me off. Other families had.

I met Jay's friends the day after I arrived. One of them, I forget who, says that he's got a crush on me. Jay likes his foster sister. Scary.

He _is_ hot, I'll admit, but I'm not good at making friends and I've tried to keep from bonding with foster siblings. I'm never there long enough. 

Jay's helped me a lot. Like his mother said, he helped me redecorate my room. I basically painted the whole thing black, blood red, and different shades of blue.

I've woken up everyday at about 9:30 and eaten breakfast.

Today, after I wake up, I stall. I usually go straight down to eat after getting dressed. I don't feel like getting dressed. So, I open my door, and walk down the hall, in black and red flannel pants and a tight pure-black shirt that goes a little above my belly button.

Jay is already there when I walk in. _Surprising, he usually tries not to wake up before 2. I shrug and sit at my "regular" spot. Pulling a bowl and a spoon towards me with one hand, I reach for a box of cereal with the other. I start to open it._

As the dry cereal hits the bowl, Jay looks up. Usually, I doubt he'd care that a girl was sitting in front of him in pajamas, but this time he did. He blushes. Ciar Scotts _blushed._

I raise an eyebrow, but don't say anything. Instead, I just reach for the milk.

He blinks a few times. "Nice outfit."

"Thanks. I felt like staying comfortable. You do every morning," I look pointedly at his boxers.

He blushes again, but crosses his arms over his bare chest. "This is _my_ house. I can wear what I want."

Rolling my eyes, I don't reply. Taking the spoon, I begin to eat. He watches me, I can feel it, but I busy myself with reading the back of the cereal box. After that, I start counting how many spoonfuls are in my bowl.

When I finish, I look at him. He's staring at me. Smirking, I finally speak, "Yes, I know. For now, I live here, too."

He sighs and watches as I reach into my pocket. I pull out a pill and put it in my mouth, swallowing it with a gulp of water. Then I continue to drink until the cup is empty.

"What's that pill for?"

I look at him and raise an eyebrow before standing up and carrying my dishes over to the sink. "Ask your mother," I say as I place them in.

"I did, but she said I had to ask you," he answers, also standing up and carrying his dishes over to put in. "What's it for?" he asks again, putting his on top of mine.

"I'll tell you one day," I answer, smirking lightly. 

He groans and shakes his head before heading towards the door. "Oh, mom said to tell you to be ready by 10 to go to your school."

"Woah, wait. _What school?" I ask, panicking slightly. He continues as if he hasn't heard be. _

Growling, I chase after him. I step in front of him and put my hands up on his chest to make him stop.

"Woah there, Ciar. Stay." I frown. "_What_ school?!"

He raises an eyebrow, trying not to look amused. "Degrassi."

Ignoring the pleasant shivers running up my spine from touching his bare chest, I frown harder. "What about you? Why don't you go to school?"

"Home school," he answers simply. "You'd better get going. You don't even have 30 minutes."

Growling at him, I lower my hands and stalk off towards my room. I'm not one of those girls who take hours to get ready, but I do take at least 15 minutes.

*** 

Like I said, only 15 minutes. During which, I take a five minute shower, spend 6 minutes getting dressed, and the rest putting on my make-up. It's only black pencil outlining my eyes. Nothing else.

Standing in front of the mirror, I suddenly realize I'm wearing what I wore on the plane. _When did I wash this?_ I shrug. Doesn't really matter, I'm ready to go. Looking around, I sigh and walk out. I don't have any school supplies, so there's nothing to take a long. 

Walking towards the front door, I find Jay's still in his boxers, but he's messing with a backpack.

"I thought you said you were home schooled. What do you need a backpack for?" I ask, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice.

He literally jumps and turns to look at me. Hiding his embarrassment, he shrugs impassively. "I am. This is yours. I was just putting in a…gift," he finishes quietly, blushing a little.

_What's with him blushing a lot all of a sudden?_ Then I remember, he likes me. He also isn't the type of guy to go around buying people, girls in particular, gifts. 

I'm not one used to getting presents. Smiling awkwardly, "Um…thanks."

He shrugs and walks off, presumably to get his mother.

Sure enough, Mrs. Scotts walks in from…somewhere in the castle. 

"Ready to go?" she asks, smiling happily.

_It's before 12! How can she be so perky?!_ "Yeah, I guess…" I mutter in reply, picking up my new backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. 

We walk in silence to the car. Works for me. I hate talking. I know that in school, I'll have to. For once I thought maybe they wouldn't make me go. But nope, I have to. 

Buckling myself in, I turn to stare out the window, ready to space. Mrs. Scotts takes my quietness for nerves, which is completely wrong.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll make friends. I went to Degrassi when I was in school." She keeps her eyes on the road.

"Mm…I'm not worried about that. In fact, I'm not worried at all." I answer, still staring out the window.

"I see, well, you seem worried about something."

I stare at the window longer. Can't she see that I'm not interested in a conversation?

"I'm not. I can't be worried. I'm used to being on my own, no friends, therefore, I'm stress free."

Something in my tone must tell her I don't want to talk. She shuts up. Thank God.

When we get there, about five till ten, I just sit in the car and stare at the school. It's pretty big, obviously public. On the front is a big sign that says 'Welcome to Degrassi'. I roll my eyes. No kid in their right mind is going to feel welcome to a school. Especially not a public one.

"Well, here we are," says Mrs. Scotts. She was obviously trying to get me out of the car.

"Yeah," I mutter, opening the car door, "here we are."

I get out and pull my backpack out behind me. Slinging it over my shoulder, I bend down, "Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome. I'll pick you up after school, which ends about 3:30."

"Aight," I mumble, closing the door with a quiet thud.

I turn and start up the steps, not looking forward to school at all. For one thing, I was late. So walking into a classroom late would attract attention that I didn't want. I hate being late to school. I hate it a lot. 

Pushing the door open, I walked in the direction I assumed the main office was. I was right. Sighing I walked in and over to the desk. 

The lady there looked up, "May I help you?"

I take a deep breath, "Yes. I'm Corazon Dremel, I'm new, and I'm supposed to start today. Do you have…a schedule for me?"

"Oh yes, I remember. Stay here while I get the papers and your locker number and code."

Before I can say anything, she gets up and bustles somewhere in the back. Great, I'm stuck by myself. Looking around, I try and find something interesting to stare at. Nothing. Not a good sign. The school's office is boring, so the school must be. Perfect.

She comes back a few minutes later with a schedule and a piece of paper for me. She hands it to me, "There you go."

"Thanks…" I mutter and walk out of the office. 

According to the piece of paper, my locker was 117.  I look at the locker I'm in front of. It's 134. I turn left and walk down the hall until I find 117.

I start to unpack.

Once done with that, I head to my first class. The schedule says 'Literature, Kwan, 108'. Tilting my head, I guess the room is 108, the teacher is Kwan, and literature is the subject. _Brilliant deductions there, Cor. Got anymore? I snort to myself and walk in a direction until I come upon a room._

108.

Wow, I'm lucky. I walk to my first class and find it without the class getting over first. It's an improvement for me.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and walk in. None of the students notice me as they are all writing in…notebooks? I raise an eyebrow and walk over to the teacher. She looks up and appears slightly startled. I look at the schedule. There's a note clipped on back. I tear it off and hand it to her.

She reads it and nods. Standing up she speaks loudly, "Class, we have a new student."

Half of them look up, the rest keep writing. I roll my eyes. 

She clears her throat and looks at me. "Would you like to introduce yourself and tell a bit about you?"

I shrug. "Not particularily, but I don't have a choice, do I?"

She frowns a little.

"That's what I thought," I mutter, looking at the class. The half that had looked up are laughing, and the other half are looking up, not knowing what they missed. I sigh, "I'm Corazon Dremel. I hate my first name, and would rather be called Cor. In fact, that's all I'll answer to if someone speaks to me. I don't plan on being here that long, I rarely am, and so I don't plan on making many friends, I rarely do. If someone wants to try and be my friend, they are welcome to, I don't really care." I pause, letting some of them laugh, and pretend to be thinking hard. "Yep, that's about it," I say, looking back at Mrs. Kwan.

She looks slightly flustered at my outburst of an introduction, but quickly covers it up. "We have two other new students here, and you all have made them welcome, I expect you to do the same to Cor." She points to an empty spot near the back, "You can go sit back there, by Cody."

I shrug and walk towards the spot indicated to me. I hear a girl mutter, "Great, another goth," to her friend. I smirk a little and finally sit down in the spot and immediately slouch down.

I glance to my left and realize I'm sitting next to the hottest guy I've ever seen, including Jay. My mouth gapes slightly, and to my horror, he looks at me. 

Seeing my expression, he raises an eyebrow. "I'm Cody McCrea," he says, smiling a bit. "I'm new here too. That," he pauses to point towards the front to a girl with brown hair and blonde highlights, "Is my sister Jess." He looks back at me, still smiling slightly, "And you're Cor, as you just finished telling us."

I smile a little, but don't say anything. I'm too busy looking him over. _God he's hot. Is he even human?_ I wonder to myself. Realizing I'm staring at his brown eyes, I advert my gaze to the table. "Yep, that would be me."

He nods, "Yeah…so…where are you from?"

"Everywhere," I mutter, not noticing my tone sounds sad. I glance back at him to see his frowning slightly. He's cute when he frowns.

"What do you mean?" he asks, tilting his head a little to the side. 

He's even cuter when he does that.

"I'm adopted, and I get kicked from family to family a lot. I'm rarely in the same place for very long," I answer, trying to explain so he wouldn't be confused. For some reason, if I were to have a friend, I'd want him to be it. 

He frowns harder, making him look even cuter. He seems to be thinking. "Is that what you meant when you said you don't plan on being here long and you don't plan on making any friends?" he asks softly.

"Yeah…I'm rarely anywhere long enough to make a friend. I haven't had one since…" I stop, the memory clogging my throat. I look away, knowing if I looked in his eyes much longer I'd cry.

"Since…?" he asks.

I shake my head, "Nevermind."

He must hear the note of pain in my voice, for he doesn't press. Though I do hear him mutter something like 'I hate neverminds…' I smile a little and look back at him. He's staring at the table, looking slightly upset.

"I've got a question for you…" I say slowly.

He looks back at me, but still slightly upset. "Yeah?"

I tilt my head slightly, like he had earlier. "Will you be a friend of mine? Please?" 

He just stares at me.

"I can understand if you don't want to…since I won't be here long." I add, looking away. Why did I care? I'd just met him, I shouldn't want him to be a friend.

"That must suck, but I never said I don't want to be. You just kinda…startled me, you sounded upset so…um…nevermind…" he says, looking away.

I smirk, raising an eyebrow, "No, tell me. I hate neverminds…"

He glances at me and sighs. "You just seemed like you were sad, so I thought you wouldn't want me as a friend…so I got upset…" he mutters, blushing a little. 

_Blusher!_ I scream in my mind, starting to giggle.

He raises an eyebrow, blushing darker, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I say, giggling harder.

"Don't make me tickle you. What's so funny?!" he asks, slightly louder, no longer blushing, but smirking instead.

I open my mouth to tell him, but Mrs. Kwan interrupts, "Cody, Cor…that's enough talking. Get to work."

This time I blush too, and lower my head as Cody also blushes and starts to write again. "Great…" I mutter, loud enough for him to hear me. "I'm here ten minutes and already I get in trouble for talking."

He glances at me, smiling. Then he turns and writes.

_If he smiles again, I swear I'm going to die now, instead of in a few years_, I think to myself. Since I have no notebook, I can't write anything. I hope like hell that I'll be able to ask him what I'll need for my next class…whatever that is.


	4. Meaningless Spaceor is it?

**Note: **I completely forgot about the Jay on Degrassi! OMG! Ok, this Jay isn't the same one…completely different one. I should've thought of a different nickname, but I'm too lazy, and I like Jay, so it's staying like that. Just remember it's a completely different Jay. 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Degrassi, or any of the characters. I do not even own Cody, he owns himself, and hasn't given me permission to 'use' him [not like that you pervs], but I'm going to anyway. I DO own Corazon, Jay, Jay's mom, and the plot. Oh, I don't own Cody's sister Jess either, she owns herself, but doesn't care if she's in it or not. 

Enough of my blabbering!

---- 

The class is shorter than I expect, and I soon hear the faint tolling of the bell. I glance around as everyone gets to their feet and starts for the door. All except me…and Cody. 

Glancing at him, I notice he's staring at me, his eyebrow raised. He's really cute when he does that. 

"What?" I ask, imitating him by raising my eyebrow. 

"Nothing, I was just wondering if you planned on going to your next class, that's all," he answered, standing up and gathering his stuff, smiling just barely. 

"Oh…right…" I mentally kick myself for being stupid, and stand up. Since I didn't bring anything, I don't have anything to carry. 

I start for the door and hear him following me. Shrugging to myself, I ignore him and stop just outside the door. I look left, then right, then left again.

"What are you doing?" he asks, watching me from behind.

"I forgot which way my locker is!" I mutter, trying really hard to remember.

"Do you remember the number?" he raises an eyebrow, yet trying to sound concerned instead of amused.

"Um…no I think I threw it away…" I mutter, digging into my pockets.

He starts to laugh, "That does you a lot of good, huh?"

I growl and playfully shove him. "It's my first day, stop making fun of me!" 

He looses his balance and falls to the side a little, but continues laughing. "It's not my fault! You're the one who lost their locker number."

I glare at him and start walking left. I pray like hell this is the direction. "Fine. Thanks for the loads of help…" I mutter, and continue walking. Suddenly I remember my locker number. It's 117! I need to remember that it's one less than my favourite number, which is 18, plus 100. I nod to myself, really glad I am good at making riddle things up to help remember stuff. 

Standing in front of my locker, the combination comes to me. 34 right, 14 left, 2 right. I smile and open the locker, but then stare. I don't know what I need for my next class. Shit. I quickly pull out my schedule, and glancing at it, see that Algebra 1 is my next class. Oh goodie. I pull out a notebook. _What the hell…_I think as I pull out this binder that Jay had bought for me. Then I remember his present, but decide to wait until lunch to open it. I was already going to be late for my class. Sighing, I turn and head towards room…127. Far, far away. Even better. I'm going to be even later!

-

I look through the window and notice the teacher isn't there. Sighing with relief, I open the door and sneak in. I instinctively go for a seat in the back. I slouch in the chair and set my notebook and binder on the desk in front of me. I cross my arms and glance around. Glancing to my left I see…someone I don't know. Obviously. I only know Cody, and I'm too pissed at him at the moment to acknowledge that I do. 

The person turns to me to show that it's a girl. She raises an eyebrow at me, "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing…Jesus Christ…" I mutter, looking away, staring at the desk. 

"You're that new girl, Corazon, right?" she asks, apparently deciding to talk to me after all.

"Cor, but yeah…that would be me. You are?" I look back at her, bored.

"Jess…Moore. I'm also new here…" she answers, still watching me.

Suddenly it hits me. She has the same accent as Cody, only slightly different. I just can't place my finger on where it's from. But…she doesn't have the same last name as Cody, I frown slightly.

"That's…cool. How long have you been here?" I tilt my head, unconsciously imitating Cody.

"Long enough to know who to avoid, who is popular, and who is not," she smirks a little.

I smile slightly, "Do fill me in."

Just then the teacher walks in. Squinting at my schedule, I decide it's Mr. Armstrong. I glance at Jess, and she mouths 'Lunch' then opens her book. 

I don't have a book, so I raise my hand. 

Mr. Armstrong sees me, "Yes?"

"I'm new and I don't have a book…" I say softly, hating speaking out in class.

"Oh, that is a problem. I think I have one here on my desk…somewhere…" he says, trailing off. Suddenly: "Oh yes! Here it is!"

He passes it to the kid at the front of my row, who passes it back until it reaches me. I take it and open it. Math is going to be hard since I've never been good at it. I sigh softly and open the book to the exact page Jess has. _Oh…goodie…_

-

Algebra isn't that hard, actually. But maybe that's because I took it last year too, in grade 8. I dunno…

When it's over, I follow the rest of the class out of the room. I don't pay attention to where Jess goes, figuring I can't miss her at lunch. I go right, heading for my locker.

I find it easier, but I also find someone standing next to it. It's Cody. I roll my eyes and ignore him, opening my locker instead.

I shove my book, in and, balancing my binder and notebook, I pull out my schedule. I look at it. It says…Art. _This I can do…_

I pull a pencil out of my binder and, putting the binder in my locker, close the door. 

"You're next class is…?" asks Cody, following me as I head down the hall.

I ignore him, and continue towards the Art room (138). He follows me.

"Helloooo? Earth to Cor? I asked you a question!" he steps in front of me, blocking my way. 

I sigh, "Art…" and continue on my way. 

He continues to follow, though he's walking faster. Then I realize I sped up. I slow down and so does he.

"Why are you following me?" I ask, looking over at him.

"Because art is my next class too…" he says, shrugging. 

I roll my eyes and continue on my way, ignoring him. What is wrong with me? First I practically die because of his _smile. Then I flirt with him when he's laughing at me. Now I get offended because his class is the same as mine. It's not like I like him, I only met him a couple of hours earlier. _

I fight the urge to hit myself over the head and open the door into the art room. Going to my regular area, the back, I sit in the corner and slouch down. Cody follows and sits next to me. I groan and fight the urge to hit my head on the table. 

Pulling out my schedule again, I sigh. I'm not going to make it to lunch. 

"Miss Dremel?"

I jump, not expecting my name to be called. "Um…yeah?"

"What is the difference between tint and shade?" The teacher looks annoyed, already judging me.

"Um…tinting is when you add white to the colour, and shading is when you add black?" I answer, skeptically.

The teacher stares at me, then nods and moves on. I smile a little and glance over to find Cody staring at me in awe.

"How did you…?" he asks, tilting his head.

God is he cute when he does that! It should be a crime for him to do it!

"I'm really good in art. It's one of my favourite classes, apart from Literature. I also like History, but only up to the 16th century…" I stop. He's looking at me like he's never seen me before. "What?!"

"Are you good in History?" he asks, ignoring my question.

"Um…yeah…" I answer, raising an eyebrow.

"Tutor me! Please!" he says, giving me puppy-dog-eyes. 

Of course, he's indescribable when he does that.

Before I can answer, the teacher interrupts, "Miss Dremel! Mr. McCrea! I do believe that's the second time you've been called on today, together. Would you stop talking!"

I just gape in horror and glance at Cody. He's blushing darkly and is slouching in his chair. I put my forehead on the table and start to hit it softly, repeatedly. I start to gradually hit harder.

Suddenly I hit a hand, and jerk up. Cody's hand is exactly where I was hitting my head. I glance at him, eyebrow raised. 

"Why'd you…?" 

He shrugs, "I dunno. Just…don't hurt yourself…" He glances up and starts copying notes off the board.

I just stare at him in surprise. Did he just…? Did that mean he cares? Realizing what he is doing, I grab my pencil and start to also copy down the notes from the board. 

I can't wait for Art to get over so I can go to lunch. It's going to be interesting to find out about the students from Jess. Very…interesting…

----

**A/N:** It's kinda short, but oh well. This is going to be my main fic, but I'm NOT by any means going to give up on Whole Again or the rest. I swear. I just…have a really thick writer's block. Plus I have to decide if I'm going to raise the rating on it, and lose a couple of readers, or not. I dunno.

I don't know why I feel this, but I do. So before I forget

I'm going to thank Cody. Yes, the Cody who is my muse and in several of my stories. He's not a person I made up (which you'd know if you've read other reviews for other stories of mine) and he's really impacted my life. So I'm thanking him. 

**This part's for Cody:**

_Thank you so much for putting up with me. I know it's probably really annoying to care for someone who really wants to die and give it all up. I'm sorry I put you through it, really really am, but thanks for staying with me anyway. _

_Thanks for getting me to stop cutting, and convincing me not to (even though you threatened me a little)._

_Thanks for being there when I have really bad days, and for trying to make me laugh (which you usually succeed in)._

_Thanks for never giving up on me, even though I've given up on myself._

_Just…thanks for everything…_

Yeah, ok, I'm done. That probably embarrassed him, or is making him think 'um…ok…' but yeah, I felt like I had to say it. I have no idea why. Just…did. I hope he reads this soon, but if he doesn't, I'll tell him too. Lol.

Ok, more thanks. A different kind, but yeah.

**Thanks to:**

**DegrassiLover******

**EvenAngelsFall22**

**silverNcold******

for reviewing. Please continue to. 

Ok everyone, REVIEW! NOW! Go on! I can SEE you walking away, not reviewing. Just…REVIEW AND HUMOUR THE POOR INSANE AUTHOR WHO IS DEPRESSED! GO ON! PLEASE!


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